A Numbers Game
by Ariel119
Summary: Spoilers for "Undead Again". Who would've thought that bureaucracy could get Rick an answer he's been seeking? Rated T for language/mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**_I was approached last week by a reader who has some creative ideas of her own but is still finding her voice. So she placed a few of her ideas in my hands, and entrusted me to bring them to life. I was humbled. I do beg her forgiveness, as I adapted one of them to be more 'humorous' than 'dark'. This is for you, CastleandBeckett13. I wanted to get this out before the finale, but, alas, life got in the way. Assume it takes place post "Undead Again" but pre "Always"_**

* * *

Rick Castle approached the desk of his (once again) muse. The night she'd told him that her wall was about to come down, he was so suffused with hope that a structure within him fell as well. The dam that was holding back his creative juices, that barrier built with the pieces of his shattered dreams, cemented with bitter betrayal, simply crumbled into tiny fragments over which the ideas flowed like a happy babbling brook.

She was scowling at her monitor so intently that he was a little afraid for it. He knew that look all too well. It said 'Be gone from my life.' Its only insurance policy was the fact that it was an essential tool for Beckett's job. Well, that, and the fact that Captain Gates might view a destructive temper tantrum as just cause for sticking her in paperwork hell.

"Good morning," he offered gently, placing her customary coffee beside her elbow before taking his seat. She took a sip and closed her eyes as she swallowed, the furrow between her brows easing. "Passport to your happy place?" he teased.

She opened her eyes and glared at her screen again. "Sadly I can't stay. Stupid frickin' department policies. I swear, these people lay awake at night thinking of new ways to torture me."

"I know the feeling," Castle quipped, chancing a flirtatious grin. He'd always prided himself on being her comic relief, but this time the joke fell flat. "Sorry," he told her stony countenance. "You were saying?"

"I have to take a _polygraph _test," she spat.

"What? _Why?_" he demanded.

"Like I said, policy. Apparently it's so we can fully understand the 'stress that it subjects suspects to'," she huffed, making air quotes with her fingers. "Touchy feely bullcrap," she muttered, _just_ loud enough for her partner to hear, had he been paying attention.

Rick, however, was off in his own mind. This was a development that interested him greatly. He knew she wasn't a perfect liar. Once her secret had come out that her claim of memory loss was false, he thought back and realized that the clues had been there all along, in her avoidance. He understood now, though, and he knew it had cost her a lot to admit, even indirectly, that she had been scared. He wasn't about to dwell on that issue any longer. No, there were other ways in which this situation might be useful to him.

* * *

The date of the test was a surprise to Beckett but not so much to her partner and the rest of their team, all of whom had used less-than-ethical resources to be sure to find themselves in the right place at the right time. Three men stood side-by-side in the observation room that offered a view into Interrogation 3. Each one fought the urge to cackle gleefully as they watched their colleague in her seat, having electrodes attached. Thanks to their prior arrangements, one of the cameras was positioned in the perfect angle to capture the image of the trace line on the paper.

The female examiner attached the elastic band around Kate's ribcage before taking her seat. A department representative looked on.

"First we'll ask a few baseline questions. Please answer only with 'yes' or 'no'." Kate nodded her understanding.

"Look at the way her lips are pressed together," Ryan commented. "Man, she's really holding back." Castle nodded his agreement.

"Bro, what are you doing watching her lips?" Esposito asked, cuffing him on the back of the head.

A tinny voice issued through the speakers, re-directing their attention. "Is your name Katherine Beckett?" the examiner asked.

"Yes," Kate responded. Few people could load that much irritation into a word with only one syllable.

"Are you currently a detective with the NYPD?" Again, the answer was in the affirmative. After a few more basic questions, the examiner said "For the next three questions, please respond with 'No'. Do you understand?"

"No," Kate replied, a glint in her eye.

"That was not one of the test questions, Detective," the representative interjected.

"Does the sum of two and two equal four? Does Christmas Day fall on December twenty-fifth? Is the year two thousand and twelve?" the examiner droned.

Kate dutifully answered in the negative. The examiner watched the wire thin pen twitch across the paper. On the other side of the window, the guys watched it too.

"Let the games begin," Castle murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'm just interested. I've never seen one of these before."

The examiner consulted her list of questions. "Have you, Detective Beckett, ever knowingly misappropriated office supplies?"

Beckett's eyes flashed with irritation. "No, but make sure to ask the boys about their paper football tournament."

"So cold," Ryan whispered.

"Please confine your answers to yes or no, Detective."

"Have you ever perjured yourself in a courtroom to ensure the conviction of a suspect?"

"NO."

"These had better be standardized questions," Esposito murmured. "No one had better be questioning her integrity." Castle smiled at his loyalty.

"Have you, Detective Beckett, had intimate relations with any member of the NYPD?"

"That is _none_ of your damned business!"

"Remember, this is meant to provide a full understanding of the stresses a suspect experiences. Please simply answer yes or no."

"Yes," she sighed.

"Has there been more than one relationship?"

"No."

"Was this individual partnered with you at the time?"

Kate smirked. "You don't understand how intimate relations work, do you?"

"Atta girl," Castle murmured.

"Detective, you are dangerously close to non-compliance with this exercise, which may be viewed as insubordination," the representative warned.

"Can you ask the question again," Kate retorted, unruffled.

"Have you had sexual relations with your NYPD partner."

They watched her take a breath before responding.

"No," she replied.

"Damn," Ryan muttered. "We were so sure, too."

Esposito looked at the trace of the line. "That's…an inconclusive result. Somehow she's equivocating."

They left the room, unsatisfied.

Castle watched them go. "There's a big difference between Intimate and Sexual, boys," he said to the empty room. "When you grow up you'll understand that."

"Have you had more that forty sexual partners?"

"Sonofabitch, you've gotta be kidding."

"That is not a yes or no answer."

Kate finally broke the careful eye contact she'd maintained with the people in the room to glare at the mirror.

"No," she answered.

"More than thirty?"

"No."

"More than twenty?"

"Yes."

"More than twenty five?"

"No."

"Thank you, Detective, that will be all."

"Is he next?" she asked, pointing at the mirror. Dead at him, actually. Hard to know if that was luck or her innate sense.

"To whom would you be referring?"

"My partner, Richard Castle."

"Mr. Castle is not an employee of the NYPD."

"Not technically, but he has all of the same access, is at my side for interrogations and everything else. Except the paperwork," she muttered. "Besides, he's here doing research. I think this would be a valuable experience for him." She raised an eyebrow at the representative, who nodded.

Behind the glass, Castle went pale. "Oh, shit."

She spoke to the glass with a feline smile. "Congratulations, Castle, you got my number. Now it's my turn to get some answers."

* * *

_**When I started this, I intended it as a one shot, but Beckett insisted that I let Castle have a turn in the hot seat. Please be so kind as to leave a review, alerts and favorites are flattering but they don't tell me exactly what I'm doing right.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Beckett strode out of the interrogation room, a woman on a mission. Castle was nowhere in sight, which probably meant he was cowering in the observation room. No matter. She needed time alone to write the extra questions for him. She'd been pleasantly surprised when the representative had agreed to have the examiner test him. Her suggestion had essentially been a bluff. As it turned out, however, the rep was a 'let the punishment fit the crime' sort of person who had no problem giving Castle a taste of his own medicine.

Kate cast a glance around the bullpen. Ryan and Esposito were at their desks wearing matching disgruntled looks. Well, from what she could see of their faces, anyway. They seemed to be studiously avoiding her gaze. If they possessed ANY self-preservation instinct they would stay far away from her, but since she had a niggling feeling that they'd been in cahoots with Castle, she opted to get away from prying eyes, all the while seeking out her own ally to help plot her revenge.

* * *

Lanie looked up in surprise when she entered the morgue. "Hey, girl. Man troubles? I know this visit isn't case related."

"Not directly," Kate hedged. Lanie's raised eyebrow prompted her to continue. "I just mean the boys are lucky I controlled my temper, or at least one of them would be on your table right now." She went on to recount her polygraph experience.

"So…how many details are you planning to get out of this?"

"As many as I can. He OWES me. Now that I think about it, the dastardly duo does, too. I'll have to think of a good way to torture them, as well…"

"I'll be happy to help any way I can," Lanie replied with a grin. "Now, onto our current mission. What did you have in mind? And don't tell me 'nothing' because you wouldn't have proposed this if you didn't want to get SOME sort of juicy truth out of him."

"Well, I am still pretty curious about where his fascination with murder comes from…"

"Right, and then there's the matter of the two ex-wives,"

"I don't know, Lanie. That's not really my business."

"Isn't it? We'd just gotten finished talking about how he wasn't the guy with the arm candy anymore, and then he shows up with the blonde. Maybe that deserves a conversation about his history."

"Hard to have a conversation when he's limited to yes or no."

Lanie waved her hand dismissively. "Two smart women like us? We'll figure it out. Now," she said, her eyes glittering. "Are you going to try and find out _his_ number?"

"Probably not. He was all too willing to volunteer it. I wouldn't be surprised if he had to order a new headboard because he ran out of room for the notches on the first one."

"Maybe," Lanie said slowly. "Or…maybe he was eager to tell you because the number is lower than you think, and he's not as much of a scoundrel as the tabloids would have us believe. Those two marriages had to put the damper on the tally somewhat, too. I wonder if he counts his ex-wives as one each or two each…"

Kate glared at Lanie. She didn't particularly enjoy being reminded of his encounters with Meredith and Gina. "Tick tock," she snapped. "Let's get some of these questions written before Gates starts calling looking for me." The two women batted ideas and phrasing back and forth until Kate was satisfied with the results. Promising lunch complete with a full report as thanks for her help, the detective sauntered out to her car.

* * *

Since Castle didn't have an actual NYPD email account, his appointment was delivered care of Kate's inbox. She had just sent the questions to the examiner, who would access them on her smart phone.

Rick had STILL not made an appearance, the big chicken. "Oh Esposito," Beckett called sweetly. The Hispanic detective swiveled toward her, his military training clearly helping him mask the flash of trepidation in his face. She beckoned him over and kept her voice low. "I know you had _something_ to do with the bullshit that happened this morning. For your penance, go get our illustrious 'Volunteer Civilian Investigator' in the men's room and make sure he's seated comfortably with the examiner."

He nodded crisply and vanished. Beckett stretched her arms above her head, flexing her hands to crack her knuckles before heading into the interrogation room herself. She wanted front row seats for this event.

When Javier ushered Rick in, the author glanced at her as he would his executioner. "Is she supposed to be in her?" he somehow managed not to stammer.

"Well, since this is merely an informal query, there is no regulation against Detective Beckett's presence," the representative replied smoothly.

The examiner set all of the probes in place and switched on the polygraph. She read from her script, but a frantic scratching noise of pen on paper drew her attention. The last time Kate had heard a sound like that, it had been caused by a small furry creature in a determined but futile effort to escape its confines. It was an apt metaphor, because Rick looked panicked and distinctly uncomfortable, like he'd rather have said frantic furry thing running around inside his boxers than sit through the impending line of questioning. The examiner's eyebrows knitted as she glanced at the paper. Even during the baseline 'truth' questions, the trace was going haywire. "Detective, would you mind stepping out for a moment?"

Kate complied, suspecting strongly what the problem was. Moments later the examiner joined her in the hall. "I'm sorry, Detective Beckett, informal or not, you're going to have to stay out of the room. His biological response to you is…intense. If you want to glean any real information today, it will have to be from the other side of the glass."

Beckett took her spot in the observation room. The examiner told him to answer "No" to the question "Is your name Richard Castle?" and both attendants shot startled looks at the smooth trace of a "true" response. Rick shot a cocky glance at the mirror, proud to have confounded the system. Kate only smirked. "That's the only softball you're getting, Ricky."

"Have you ever been arrested?"

"Yes, several times. Twice by Detective Beckett, even."

"A simple yes or no, please. Ever been convicted of a felony?"

"No."

"Ever committed a murder?"

"Not unless you count literary characters."

"Ever _witnessed_ a murder?"

"Damn near," he replied, gazing at the mirror, his eyes stormy. "_Too _damned near. But no."

Kate's gut clenched. She wanted payback for his little joke, his prying, but she didn't intend for him to relive her shooting. Damn.

The examiner's voice made them both focus again. "Do you write such violent stories to live vicariously through the antagonists?"

"No. The protagonists. I get to play pretend hero, save the day." Kate chuckled. A hero complex then. Not surprising in the least, really. "Plus, when I got my start, just a broke kid in college, I saw that it paid well." Hmm. More truth, or was it just convenient to mask his fantasy with a little mercenary twist?

The examiner opened her mouth to repeat the pat 'yes or no', but she seemed a little mesmerized. Rick couldn't resist weaving a story, just wasn't content to color inside the lines. Kate realized that getting answers from him was going to be easier than she thought. And apparently he wasn't even through telling this tale.

"People willingly plunk down their heard earned money to escape, root for the hero. A few might even enjoy trying the villain's shoes on for size. It's times like that, I'm not proud that I've written those parts so well."

More shadows crossed his face. This time she could tell he was thinking of the Tisdale case that started it all. Oh, Rick. But then there was a flicker in his expression. Was he…? Oh damn him, he was messing with her again, trying to spoil the sweetness of her revenge with guilt. Suddenly she lost any trace of guilt that _she_ still harbored over the next questions.

"You've been divorced twice, is that correct?"

Castle answered in the affirmative. That was public knowledge.

"During your first divorce proceeding, were you found at fault?"

"My first wife served me with papers, so yes, clearly she felt _something_ was my fault. Perhaps it was the fact that I refused to turn a blind eye while she was screwing half of Hollywood." A hint of real bitterness invaded his tone.

"During your second divorce proceeding, were you found at fault?"

"Only by myself, for thinking it was a good idea to marry someone I worked so closely with." After the words were out of his mouth his eyes slammed shut and she saw him swear under his breath. Clearly he regretted saying something that might spell doom for _their_ relationship.

"That is not a…"

"No. I was NOT. Now, are we done here? Are we even now?" Like her, in that chair hours earlier, he was no longer addressing comments to the people in the room, but to his partner, sitting on the other side of the mirror. His expression, oh, what a kaleidoscope. Displeasure at having her poke around in his personal life, but resignation that he'd gotten his just desserts, and just a little bit of admiration that she'd given as good as she'd gotten. There was something else there, too. It whispered "Why didn't you ask me directly, if you wanted to know." But that wasn't their way, was it? They always used the most indirect forms of communication. Very soon, that was going to have to change.

She waited for him outside the interrogation room. He was buttoning up his sleeve as he emerged, and he nearly bumped right into her. "Beckett!" he yelped.

She smiled serenely. "We're done for the day," she said. "Comfort food truck?"

He nodded his acceptance, looking relieved that she even wanted to be around him. As they exited the bullpen, they passed Ryan's desk, and he gave them a confused look. Once in the elevator, Castle chanced the question. "So…what are you going to do to _him_?"

"I'm going to…leave him hanging…waiting to see what I'll do."

"Diabolical," Castle intoned appreciatively.

* * *

**_See what I did there? Hope you all enjoyed this! Please leave a review, I'm sorta addicted to them. _**


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